Chapter 5
Spike sat rather impatiently waiting by the passenger door of the rental car after he’d stormed, as well as one could in a wheelchair, out of the hotel room. He’d instantly lit up a smoke and missed the comfort that pacing gave him when he was pissed. And boy was he pissed. Who the bloody hell did she think she was, anyway…being nice to him? Nice? He was a master vampire, not some sodding cripple. In fact, he was only temporarily disabled, a fact she’d do well to remember. Because as soon as he was healed, the very second he was well enough to stand, he was going to kick the ever living snot out of that California Dream Girl and remind her just who the hell she was messing with. She’d be begging, no…pleading for mercy…and just when she thought he’d give it to her, just when she thought he’d back down…he’d pounce, nice and sweet.
Of course, he failed to remind himself the many times he’d been unsuccessful in the past to bring down this particular Slayer, failed to remember how many times he’d had to turn tail and run…did it in style, at least. But the truth hurt when you were pissed off and sulking in a wheelchair and almost out of smokes. He replayed every incident he’d shared with the Slayer in the past. How well she fought…how she moved like a bloody ballerina, delivered a punch like Mike Tyson and spat out an insult with the ease of Joan Rivers. Aside from the first time when Joyce went Paul Bunyan on him with an ax, he really couldn’t remember a time that either had successfully out done the other. Oh right…the organ. That was bloody poetic, wasn’t it? And painful…he couldn’t forget painful.
Spike moved to kick the side of the car and then cursed when he couldn’t. So he punched it instead.
He’d lived over a hundred and twenty years, raised more hell and caused more mayhem than her gorgeous little head could even possibly comprehend. Pity from a Slayer made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t need her pity, he needed her to shut her juicy lips for five minutes and give a bloke a chance to think up a proper plan to end her life. She was terribly distracting, this slayer. Always with the weird vernacular and sparkling eyes, her stupid shampoo commercial hair and short skirts.
She was a cock tease. Plain and simple.
And wasn’t that just horribly unfair? And wrong! He quickly reminded himself. Horribly wrong. In fact, it was probably her plan all along. Tempt him with her luscious ass and gut-wrenching smiles, get him good and bursting with lust and then kick him straight in the jollies and finish him off with eight inches of wood. Not that his jollies were feeling anything jolly of late. Bloody useless he was. But that would change with a bit more blood, he imagined. He was already feeling a little bit stronger in his back after the two bags of blood he’d had since they left California. He could twist from side to side without screaming in pain, so it was a nice start.
And then that pissed him off more! If Drusilla, god love her, would have taken notice of his condition and sodding helped him to feed, he’d have been healed by now. But who cares about the millions of things Spike did for her out of love and respect, right? Who cares that he moved them all over the world, kicking in doors and burning villages and beating up townsfolk in search of a cure for her when she was too weak to take care of herself? Bloody no one, that’s who! But he didn’t complain because Spike was a good vamp and knew his sodding place in the world. At the fucking bottom! With all the other miscreants and dregs of the demon world that were never appreciated for their grand gestures, thanks very much for that, Angelus. Yes, he was feeling sorry for himself and yes he wished he had some fucking Jack Daniels and yes, Buffy was wrecking everything! He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about her cute little blush when she saw him completely starkers, wasn’t supposed to wish for a hard-on just to show her what a real one looked like so that he could get a cheap thrill and brag to Captain Forehead about it later; wasn’t supposed to be thinking about her lips and her soft skin…how supple her thighs were…
Drusilla…now there was a beautiful bird. She has nice…hair. And pretty eyes. And white teeth. And…
Spike extinguished his cigarette and sighed.
What was he thinking about? Oh right. And he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about how tight the Slayer’s pussy might—
“You ready to go?”
Buffy found Spike by the passenger door, waiting for her with a scowl on his face the size of Texas.
“What?” he said a little louder than he anticipated, slightly embarrassed where his train of thought was going as she came out, as if she could read his thoughts.
“I asked if you were ready to go,” she said as she loaded up the back of the SUV.
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat and set his jaw in a hard line of determination. “So, ‘bout this diner of yours you mentioned.”
Buffy tilted her head as she walked towards him, “I thought…you didn’t need to eat sodding dinner with me.” She folded her arms beneath her chest and pursed her lips.
Spike rolled his eyes. So she was still pissed off about that? “Oh, so you’re still pissed off about that?”
She eyed him incredulously. “Yeah…it was like…three minutes ago. Sorry if I’m still a bit ‘pissed’,” she did air-quotes, “when you went all day-time soap opera on me with the big exit.”
“Slayer,” he said almost playfully. “Let’s not fight. The kiddies hate it when mum and dad argue.”
Buffy sighed in frustration, even though her eyes zoned in on his bottom lip that was currently jutting out in a very tempting manner. “Is there ever going to be a point to this weirdness or are we just going to stand here for another five minutes driving each other crazy?” Buffy’s mind was reeling with his behavior. Not too long ago, he was screaming his head off and pissed that she was being a decent human being. And now he was…flirting with her? Not that he’d never dropped sexual innuendoes or said things that set her off balance before, but something was different about his mood. He was up to something.
“You know, if you’d spend less time talkin’ an’ more time doin’, we might have been on the road by now.”
Buffy’s mouth opened in shock. “But…you were the one who…” She threw her hands up in the air and huffed. “You are the most annoying person in the world.”
“Thanks, luv,” he said with a smile, taking much delight in her frustration. “Can we go now?”
“God, yes,” she said sighing and opened the passenger door and then smiled when she had an idea. “You think you can get inside yourself?”
“What?” he asked with wide eyes.
“Well, I don’t want to pity you, you know. So I guess I should just let you try to do more things for yourself, right? I wouldn’t want to damage your poor ego by helping you into a car,” Buffy turned to the side to hide her mischievous grin.
Spike’s eyes narrowed into dangerously small slits as his mouth rose up in an infuriating smirk. “Real funny, Slayer.”
“I wasn’t being funny,” she said with mock concern. “I want you to feel…you know, more manly or whatever. God, it must be humiliating to have a tiny girl hoisting you up and down when you could probably manage on your own. I mean, it might take a bit longer, but think how proud of yourself you’ll be once you’re done!”
Spike laughed humorlessly. It wasn’t hard to remind himself how much he hated her when she did things like this. There was no way he could get into the car on his own, which meant that he would have to ask for her help. And the bitch knew it. But he was a stubborn asshole, too. “Fine,” he said, feigning confidence, and wheeled into position near the passenger seat. The tall SUV made it almost impossible for him to find a good grip on anything to pull himself up but there was no way in hell he’d back down and ask for her assistance.
Buffy’s eyes went wide as she watched him struggling to get into the vehicle. She didn’t think he’d actually go through with it. God, he was stubborn. “Spike,” she said taking a step forward.
He ignored her and held onto the door handle with one hand and the edge of the seat with the other and tried to push himself up a third time, shouting in misery. “Fuck this fucking wheelchair!” He collapsed back in his seat with a defeated growl.
Buffy felt awful for egging him on, but was it so hard for him to admit that he needed help with some things? “Will you let me help you now?”
The look he gave her sent a tiny shiver of fear down her spine. “I. Hate. You.”
“Yeah, well…shut up and let me get you in the car.”
Spike angrily looked away and allowed the Slayer to lift him into the seat. He managed to get a whiff of her hair though, so it wasn’t all bad. When she reached for the seat belt, he yanked it out of her hand. “I can do that!”
“Ok, ok…don’t get so testy!”
She walked around the car and got in the drivers’ side after stowing the chair in the back.
“So, are we goin’ to this stupid diner or what?”
Buffy fought back a smile at that. “Yes. But we need to set some ground rules.”
He snorted. “Ground rules?”
“No game face, no scaring the patrons and no killing!”
“Slayer, I’m not goin’ to kill anyone. Couldn’t if I wanted to. Unless they leaned forward or something.”
She turned to look at him as she started up the car. “Spike…if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s never to doubt your vampiric craftiness.”
He didn’t want to tell her that she’d just stroked his ego with that little comment, so he settled for arrogance. “Bloody right.”
~*~*~*~*~
“Smoking or non?” The hostess smacked her gum and eyed the blond duo in front of her.
“Smoking,” Spike quickly interjected.
“Right this way,” she said in a bored tone and Buffy pushed Spike along the carpet behind her. Buffy didn’t like the stares shot their way by the patrons and judging by the vice-like grip on his arm rests, Spike wasn’t too fond of them either. But instead of vamping out, like he wanted to do, he drew more attention to himself. Sod the wankers.
“You know, you lot should put in a bloody wheel-ramp. Should sue your asses for it! Took ten minutes jus’ to get up the bleedin’ stairway.”
Buffy rolled her eyes and situated him at the table, removing a few wooden chairs to do so and sat across from him. Neither blond failed to notice that the hostess placed them in the far corner of the restaurant. She nonchalantly tossed two menus on the table and said, “Your waitress will be with you in a minute.” She turned around, leaving them alone in an awkward silence. Buffy distracted herself with the menu and Spike lit a cigarette.
“I like dives like this,” he said atop a long exhale of smoke, looking around the diner. “Dru would never be caught dead in a place like this.”
Buffy refrained from mentioning that she was already dead. She looked up from her menu. “She’d never go to a diner with you? Not even…you know, for a late night snack?”
Spike caught the lightness in her tone and was somewhat awed that she was joking with him about…well, about murder. “No, pet. Not even for that. Somethin’ about the grease that set ‘er off. She’s a refined lady, Dru. Likes all that fancy rot and what not. S’pose it ‘as somethin’ to do with her upbringing.”
“But, I thought you were all Victorian Vamp?”
“I got over it,” he said with a wink and took a drag off his cigarette.
Buffy hid her smile with her menu. “Ooh! They have buffalo wings!”
“Let me see that,” Spike said suddenly, snatching the menu from her hands.
“Hey, you have your own menu!”
“Well, I like yours better,” he said with a smirk. “An’ they come with dipping sauce! That’s it, I’m gettin’ those.”
Buffy folded her arms on the table and tilted her head to the side, cocking an eyebrow. “You eat? Since when?”
“Since always, pet. Vamps can eat, contrary to your little Watcher’s diaries. I like the way it tastes is all.”
“You are so strange.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “’Sides…I’m not payin’ for it.”
“I knew there was an evil scheme in there somewhere,” she said with a wink and quickly looked away in embarrassment for her involuntary flirting. But Spike didn’t miss it.
With a boyish grin he said, “Don’ think that jus’ because you’re buyin’ me dinner that I’ll put out, Slayer. I got morals, you know.”
She blinked. “What?!”
“Well, ‘m flattered that you took me on a date, luv. But I require at least dinner AND a movie before we start bumpin’ uglies.”
“This is so not a date, you freak! And what makes you think I would ever bump…whatevers with you anyway?”
Spike started chuckling. “You’re awfully flustered, kitten.”
She crossed her arms and blushed. Spike couldn’t resist.
“Ok, ok…I’ll do it but you have to buy me some ice cream.”
“Spike!”
“Allright,” he said rolling his eyes, “I’ll go down on you, but that’s it!”
“Oh my god! Will you shut up?”
Spike licked his bottom lip and gave her a wrinkly smile. “You know, for someone who’s not interested in my talents, and I have plenty,” he said with a leer, “you’re gettin’ awfully worked up.”
Buffy needed to get away from him as soon as possible. If he kept going on this line of conversation, she was sure she’d crack. And she did NOT need those images in her head. “I have to make a phone call,” she said standing up. “And don’t you dare do anything stupid while I’m gone or I’ll stake you.”
Spike merely smiled up at her and said sweetly, “Don’ make me wait too long, luv. I’ll miss you.”
She sighed and turned on her heel, walking towards the pay phone. Spike stared at her ass as she retreated. She was too bloody easy to embarrass. And that’s when he felt it. It was the tiniest of things, but it was there. With a wicked smile, Spike looked at his lap and watched the bulge grow in his jeans. He tried moving his legs, but nothing happened. He linked his hands behind his head, happily eyeing the patrons of the restaurant. He was healing, and things were about to change. Now, if only he could get rid of this semi before the Slayer had to help him back in the car.
A large woman with dark blue eye shadow, a mole on her chin, breasts hanging down to her navel and a runner in her pantyhose came up to the table. “Can I take your order?”
Well…that definitely did the trick.
~*~*~*~*~
“How is everything, Buffy?”
“It’s going ok, I guess,” she said, twirling the metal phone cord in her fingers as she looked across the diner at Spike. He was smiling about something and it made her suspicious, so she kept her eyes on him during her conversation with Giles.
“Where are you now?”
“We’re in Nevada and about to head out after we get something to eat.”
She heard Giles sigh on the other line. “I’m sorry this is going to take so long, Buffy. Traveling only at nightfall is really cutting into your time.”
“Yeah, but it isn’t so bad.”
“What do you mean?” Giles was curious about her nonchalant attitude. She’d yet to mention her travel companion and he’d fully anticipated getting an earful of screaming fits from her.
“Well, I get really tired after about seven hours or so of driving, so it’s nice to have a break.”
“I see. And what of Spike?”
“What about him?”
“Is he…well, has he tried anything?”
Buffy didn’t think Giles wanted to hear about how she helped give him a bath or how he’d cuddled with her and soothed her when she was crying. “The usual annoyances. But otherwise…strangely cooperative.” She covered her mouth to muffle her giggle when she watched Spike accidentally knock his water glass over on the table and cursed, trying his best to clean it up before some ugly waitress came over to assist him. They battled with the dish rag she offered for a moment before he gave up and let her do it herself.
“…which is why you should be extremely careful,” Giles was saying.
“What? I’m sorry, Spike just did something stupid and I was…never mind. What did you say?”
Giles was silent for a minute. “Buffy…I hope you aren’t putting trust in Spike needlessly. While he is helping us out, he’s only doing it for the money and I have no doubt that he’ll try something at the first opportunity available.”
“Of course not, Giles. We’re just being civil, that’s all. I’m on full Slayer alert to any evil…” Spike was stretching his arms over his head and Buffy zoned out for a moment, watching his muscles flex.
“Buffy? Are you there?”
“Huh? Oh…yeah,” she shook her head and turned around away from the temptation of the vampire across the room. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Oh,” he sighed in relief, hoping that was the only thing wrong with his slayer. “Well, I hope you’re being careful. Have you run into any of the Githyan demons yet?”
“Not yet, but we’re still pretty far off from Maryland.”
“That very well may be, but you should anticipate meeting them soon. They’ll know you’re coming.”
“I know,” she said all business like, “And I’m completely prepared for whatever they throw my way. Don’t worry, Giles. I’m being careful.”
“All right, then. Call me once you’ve settled into the next town.”
“Will do. Tell the gang I said hey.”
“Of course, Buffy. Goodbye.”
“Bye.”
Buffy hung up the phone and took a deep breath before she went back to the table, giving herself a little pep-talk. “He’s a vampire. An evil, soulless vampire who wants to kill you, not bring you flowers and write you poetry and make love under the stars. It’s Spike, Buffy. Spike. Dirty…evil, sexy, hot…” she closed her eyes and groaned. “One day down…fourteen or more to go.”
TBC! Up next…will Spike have another hard on? Will Buffy find out about it? What will happen when these two crazy kids spend another day in a hotel? Will Buffy get pregnant with Spike-babies? Will Spike become a scientologist? Will Giles discover that there are new and improved ways to polish his glasses? Will Xander find out that you can in fact talk without the use of your hands? Is Anya thinking about orgasms? Will anyone notice that Andrew was a vampire extra before he was a character on the show? Do unicorns really exist? FIND OUT NEXT TIME, GENTLE READERS.